moritat | Victorian weenie au

It isn't that he's tried this before!! ...Well, alright, maybe he has...on one of those shameful nights. Or as Hyde. Clearly those don't count. It takes a careful maneuver to guide himself into her, even with her help with keeping herself in place, but he's desperate and determined.

He knows it can't be called anything like 'making love' if ever 'fucking' was an appropriate term, it's now. But still, for all that his randy moaning in her ear and carelessly smacking her into the wall are base, Jekyll would like to think there's still something romantic about it. Romance isn't strictly vanilla, right?

A motley crew of men and women idling away their time downstairs try to ignore the voices and rhythmic thudding coming from Miss Vasquez's quarters. A younger maid keeps giggling, even though her senior continually shushes her. The wise butler who'd given Dr. Jekyll such a hassle mutters, "Her physician."

Paloma ain't doing a whole lot to keep their noise down. When she doesn't sound as though he's hurting her -- he most assuredly is not -- she babbles and begs in another language.

Sometimes she curses him, calls him cruel for not fucking faster or more roughly.

Lost for words, what can he say but repetitions of her name, of love, and senseless noise. His heart beats too fast, knees too weak from the excitement of it all to be safe in this position. But he takes every plea and curse to heart. She deserves whatever she wants...and who is Jekyll to deny any of it anyway, it's not as if he minds going at it like a jackrabbit in heat. Go big or go home, what's the point in sinning just a little, make it worthwhile.

But he's a pathetic man, he can't keep it up forever, as much as he might like to. It's impressive he didn't come immediately, really!! His grip on Paloma's thigh and hip tighten as he presses himself closer still, pushing as deep as he possibly can.

Sploosh.

Did you think this could be a serious tag all the way through, nah

This is so much better than the time he emptied his balls into her in that filthy pub. Her wallpaper's WAY cleaner.

He's in luck tonight. Hypersensitive from coming just minutes ago, she's not long in topping over the edge before his last hurrah; Paloma shouts indecipherably and locks her whole body up. The difference is the size of him, the rabbit-in-heat pace and force he manages, bless him, it's nothing like the helping hand before. She is altogether too noisy and the bang from her head hitting the wall cannot make it better.

She sort of hangs there, limp, only kept up by his grip and. Well. That dick.

As much as he'd like to stay exactly where they are, that isn't about to happen, his muscles won't allow it after that escapade.

But he can lock lips and set her back down carefully. And with her hand in his, give a little tug to come along and lie down. In a proper place. Wouldn't it be nice to curl up together on the bed? The rough needs to be tempered with tenderness, and he doesn't want the closeness to end yet either.

Feeling like an actual goddamned treasure and that nothing about tonight could ever, ever be wrong of them, she curls around his neck first for a deep kiss. Slower than what they've had. Paloma relishes the stinging between her thighs while it lasts, too.

Her bloomers slip the rest of the way down her boots before they get through the washroom door. She almost screams to see her bedroom door ajar, all this time. "Ah ... oh," she swallows. Wordless, she slips away from him to shut it ever so gently.

...Oh. His cheeks light up. At some point, he realises, he'd stopped paying mind to privacy. With the door open, if someone walked by the room they'd certainly have heard.

How can he know it's so much worse.

"A-aah. I hope that no one heard..." Or worse, poked their head in the door and saw.

No one nearby, blessing of blessings. She sags against the door and wishes she felt more shame than she does. That this spiraled from love and two people frantic for a means of expression makes it no less apparent she won't be marriageable. After those times she swore off bedding anyone until they had made and kept that promise!

But looking at him as he blushes, she can't be ashamed. Just warmed. "Yes. But we can lie here ..."

"Are you sure? Do you - do you want me to leave, if I do quickly and quietly, the servants might not know that anything ever happened!!" He doesn't say it because he wants to go, in fact that's the furthest thing from his mind. But if anything can make this situation better for her, he'll do it.

"Oh please do not! Please do not think it is easy when you have gone."

Not the lonely living with more servants than a fledgling knows what's to be done with. Damn Carlos. Damn the vanity of maintaining a house she'd as soon as burn to the ground than expose another soul to living with its memories. She hugs herself. "I missed you."

If that's the case, he's sorry he even mentioned it. She shouldn't have to hug herself, his arms should be around her instead, and within no more than a moment, they are. "So have I. I...wanted to apologise for how long it has been."

And now maybe he should also be apologising for coming back this way.

Victorian weenie au

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